


Taking a Sick Day

by SomewhereFlying



Series: Two Lies and a Truth [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, First Time, Fluff, Goro Attends Shujin, Hand Jobs, M/M, Skipping Class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 16:59:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereFlying/pseuds/SomewhereFlying
Summary: An honor student and a delinquent spend the day skipping school together.





	Taking a Sick Day

* * *

 

There were few things more tempting to Akira than the prospect of sleeping in. It was a luxury so rarely afforded to him – whether due to school or to Sojiro’s early morning preparations downstairs – that he often daydreamed of pretending to leave for the day, only to spin back around, vault up the side of Leblanc, and immediately return to his still-warm bed.

So when his alarm roused him from his dreams that morning, purposely set a full half-hour earlier than usual, he quickly dismissed it and rolled onto his side, tugging the covers up over his shoulders to keep out the morning chill. He could hear the sharp patter of sleet hitting his window, and with a sigh, he sank down into his mattress, pulling his legs up to his chest and curling into a ball. He’d already decided to skip today, and he had only just woken up; it would be easy to drift right back off. He could still remember his dream, even…

Before sleep could whisk him away, however, his phone made another noise, a much softer buzz that had him sticking his hand out of the covers and groping around until his fingers closed over the offending device. He pulled it down into his nest, squinting against the bright screen.

 **> >Goro Akechi:** Good morning.

A jolt of anticipation shivered through him, and suddenly, Akira felt a good deal more awake.

 **> >Akira Kurusu:** Morning

Yes, there were few things more tempting than a comfy bed on a rainy winter morning… but they _did_ exist.

The attic was damp and cold thanks to its poor insulation, and after crawling out from under the covers at last, Akira’s immediate priority was to seek out warmer clothes, clumsily changing into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt before tugging a hoodie on over his head. He yawned and flopped back onto his bed, soaking up some of the residual warmth as he retrieved his phone from the tangle of covers.

 **> >Goro Akechi:** I didn’t wake you, did I?  
**> >Goro Akechi:** I’m sorry. I just wanted to check in about when we’d be meeting… we never decided.

 **> >Akira Kurusu:** You didn’t. It’s cool  
**> >Akira Kurusu:** Give me like an hour?  
**> >Akira Kurusu:** I need to get ready  
**> >Akira Kurusu:** And we need to wait for the crowds to clear out

 **> >Goro Akechi:** Right, that makes sense.

There was a short pause before Akechi’s next message.

 **> >Goro Akechi:** I apologize; I’m honestly not sure what one does while purposely skipping class.  
**> >Goro Akechi:** Forgive me if I ask something foolish.

Akira’s thumbs flew over his touch screen before he could think better of it.

 **> >Akira Kurusu:** It’s okay, you don’t have to keep up your good boy façade around me, senpai. ;)  
**> >Akira Kurusu:** I won’t tell

 **> >Goro Akechi:** I’m not!

His reply arrived in seconds, the two simple words painting a vivid picture of Akechi’s face: all shock and indignant rage, mixed with a healthy dose of embarrassment.

 **> >Goro Akechi:** I’m not lying.  
**> >Goro Akechi:** In fact, it’s more embarrassing to admit how little I know.

 **> >Akira Kurusu:** I know, I know  
**> >Akira Kurusu:** I’m just kidding. Don’t worry so much.

 **> >Goro Akechi:** If you say so.  
**> >Goro Akechi:** Well, I’ll await your further instruction, then.

Akira couldn’t keep from smiling to himself. It was almost cute how nervous Akechi came across over text… Akira had never thought of his senpai as socially awkward – he always appeared perfectly collected and charismatic at school – but once he was out of his element, he seemed constantly ready to crumple. So the fact that Akechi would be relying on him today, instead of the other way around… Akira would be lying if he said he didn’t like it a little bit.

“You’re up early, kid,” Sojiro commented, casting a skeptical look over Akira’s choice of clothing as he came down the stairs.

“Oh… yeah,” Akira said, shrugging as casually as he could. “I felt pretty gross last night, so I thought I’d get up early and go to the bathhouse before school.” He jostled his messenger bag to indicate that perhaps he was carrying his school uniform with him.

(He wasn’t, but Sojiro didn’t need to know that.)

“Hmph. Well, I don’t have any breakfast for you,” Sojiro said, turning back to the stove.

“It’s okay; I’ll get something at school,” Akira said, already on his way out the door. “Thanks anyway, Boss.”

Sojiro grunted in reply as the door closed behind Akira.

Yongen-Jaya’s bathhouse was hardly a stone’s throw away from Leblanc, which was good, because it was even colder outside than it had been up in the attic, the sleet coming down slowly but steadily now. Akira made a dash for the building, and after handing his payment off to the attendant, he made his way into the starkly silent bathhouse.

He scrubbed himself down thoroughly, washing his hair and rinsing off before moving into the primary bath, which – thanks to the early hour – he had entirely to himself. Sinking down into the water, he sighed contently, relishing the peace and quiet as the heat crept into his bones and warmed his core. He could fall asleep again right here if he wasn’t careful…

But he had so much to look forward to, and that anticipation kept Akira from dozing off. Drowning, he thought, would not be the best start to his day.

Just as his fingers started to prune up, Akira left the blissful comfort of eternally-hot water and toweled off. When he was dressed again, he felt pleasantly warm, dry, and clean – and much more awake. Sneaking past Leblanc, he hurried through the sleet towards Yongen’s subway station, which was never a particularly busy place and which was even quieter now that the morning work rush had passed, and pulled out his phone.

 **> >Akira Kurusu:** Okay, I’m ready now  
**> >Akira Kurusu:** Can I meet you at the station near your place?

 

* * *

 

“Ah, Kurusu-kun.”

Akechi appeared in front of him seconds after he stepped off his train. Even dressed casually, Akechi looked far more put-together than Akira did: with his khakis and blue argyle sweater vest, he exuded a sort of earnest, dorky charm that Akira wanted desperately to mock, if only he didn’t find it so attractive.

“Hey,” Akira said.

Akechi’s smile dampened. “I’m sorry about the weather,” he said. “If I’d known, I would have suggested we do this on another day.”

Akira shrugged. “That’s just how it is. You can’t be picky about this kind of thing.”

“I suppose not,” Akechi said. He tugged on the sleeve of his shirt. “Well then? I’d like to get out of here… I feel awkward just standing in public.”

“Sure,” Akira said, and they pushed through the turnstile, winding their way up to the surface. “Did you have anything in particular you wanted to do today?” he asked.

“I hadn’t given it much thought, to tell the truth,” Akechi said. “What do you and your friends normally do?”

“Depends on the day, and how we’re feeling. We’ll go to the park sometimes, if the weather’s nice, or the arcade… honestly, most of the time we just go back to Ann’s apartment and sleep.”

“What, really?”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No, I do,” Akechi said quickly. “I just assumed you’d want to do something more… wild?”

“You really think we’re complete troublemakers, huh?” Akira laughed. “Nah. Sometimes we’re just tired. School is… a lot, y’know.”

Akechi hummed in vague agreement.

“I mean, what do _you_ do in your spare time?” Akira asked.

“I don’t have much,” Akechi admitted. “I have school during the week, of course, cram school every other afternoon, and work on the days I don’t have that…” He trailed off, looking a bit dour. “I may have to rely on you for suggestions today.”

“Well,” Akira said, “given the weather, I figured we’d just go see a movie.”

If he was being honest, that wasn’t his first choice – he’s much rather watch a movie on his crappy old CRT in the comfort of his own home, where he and his friends could talk openly without garnering the ire of other theater patrons – but the weather had effectively quashed any other plans for the day.

Akechi frowned. “Isn’t a movie theater one of the first places an attendance officer would think to look for truants?” he asked.

“You’re overestimating how much people care about that kind of thing,” Akira said, waving his hand dismissively. “As long as you aren’t causing a scene, no one even looks at you.”

They had reached the surface by now, stopping just shy of the exit and looking out into the wet streets in front of them.

“…you know, Niijima-chan once told me she worries that being on the student council has alienated us from our peers,” Akechi said. “I laughed at first, but I’m starting to think perhaps she was right. I just want to look at this in terms of rules…”

“But it’s not so simple, huh?”

“It’s not,” Akechi said. He took a deep breath through his nose and turned towards Akira, his expression brightening. “Well, if you’d like to go see a movie, there’s a theater just a few blocks from the station. I’d be happy to show you.”

“Lead the way, then,” Akira said.

It was only as he watched Akechi pull out an umbrella that Akira realized why his own hands had felt unnaturally light this whole time. Akechi glanced at him curiously.

“Did you forget your umbrella?” he asked.

“I, uh… I guess so.”

Akechi shook his head, opening his own umbrella off to the side and sweeping it up over their heads, stepping closer to Akira to shield him from the weather as well. “That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?” he asked.

Akira pressed up against Akechi and latched onto his free arm, grinning. “Well, it worked, so… you tell me.”

They began to make their way down the street, and while Akira’s left side wasn’t completely covered, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

As promised, the theater was only a short walk from the subway station, and soon Akira found himself standing beside Akechi and perusing the list of screenings for something worth watching.

“What kind of movies do you like?” Akira asked.

“Oh, I enjoy a fair variety of genres,” Akechi said at once, his voice notably pitched-up; his expression, too, seemed somehow put-upon. When he looked at Akira, however, his smile faded into something a little less wide. “But, um… if I’m just looking to enjoy myself, then I like adventure movies, or romances… animated films, as well, although there’s nothing in theaters at the moment that has truly caught my eye.”

“Romances, really?”

“Wha— yes, _really._ It – it’s interesting to watch the interplay between the characters… when it’s done well, anyway,” Akechi said, mumbling the last half to himself with a quiet, indignant scowl.

“Sorry, sorry,” Akira said, squeezing Akechi’s arm gently. “It’s just surprising, that’s all.”

“Yes, well… I can’t let you have all the surprises today, can I?” Akechi asked.

“What, have I surprised you already?”

“Not yet. But I have faith in you, Kurusu-kun.” Akechi gave him a smile that was half soft and half sharp, so attractive Akira thought it should be illegal. “You always manage to surprise me somehow.”

Ultimately, they picked a film based on Akechi’s recommendation, and as they made their way into the theater, Akira had to admit there was a certain odd charm about going to the movies in the middle of the day. It was true what he’d said before: the movie theater _was_ a great spot to avoid detection, quiet and dark and largely empty, save for a handful of employees and a few bored retirees.

Or, as it turned out, _completely_ empty, not another soul to be found in the small theater where their chosen film was to play. That was for the best, probably – no one to get angry at them if Akira cracked a joke too loudly, no one to wonder why they weren’t in school. No one at all, except…

Akira shifted in his seat, only now realizing he’d never thought to ask Akechi if this was – if they were on a _date_ right now. Not that it really mattered, but… if this _was_ a date, then it would be perfectly appropriate for Akira to reach out and take Akechi’s hand, which had been sitting so invitingly on the armrest in between their two chairs since they first sat down.

Akechi was wearing his gloves today, Akira noted. He always was, of course, but it at least served a purpose when they were outside, shielding his fingers from the cold winter weather. Akechi never took them off, though, and god if that didn’t make the thought of his bare hands seem even more tempting… not that Akira wouldn’t dream of asking him to take them off in public. For now, he would be more than content to hold his fully-gloved hand, to feel the leather embracing his fingers… surely it was soft? Akira wanted to know…

“Hmm… it seems we’ll have the place to ourselves,” Akechi commented as the lights began to dim.

“Looks like it,” Akira said. He nudged Akechi in the rib with his elbow. “Don’t get any ideas, senpai.”

Akechi made an affronted noise. “I – I think you’re projecting, Kurusu-kun,” he said, squirming away from Akira’s jab.

“Maybe,” Akira said, hesitating for only a second before slipping his hand beneath Akechi’s.

Akechi blinked, his expression difficult to read in the dark, but seconds later, he laced their fingers together, a smile slipping onto his face before he turned towards the screen, and Akira felt himself shiver. Then the trailers started to play, at which point Akira found himself with two options: watch the movie, or watch Akechi.

He earnestly tried for the former, he really did, but even seconds after the movie began, he couldn’t keep himself from glancing at his companion. Akechi sat back in his seat, a little stiff but growing more relaxed as he realized they weren’t in danger of being caught and reprimanded. He watched the movie intently, though with a certain air of aloof disinterest: his lips barely twitched up into a polite smile when the lead delivered a joke, and he only lifted his eyebrows at an early act-one twist.

But that didn’t last long.

In the safety of this dark, empty theater, Akira watched Goro Akechi, slowly but surely, drop his guard. It was subtle at first; he laughed a little too loud at the next witty quip, clearing his throat to disguise the sound. He didn’t say a word – to speak in a theater would be an unthinkable faux pas – but the look on his face told Akira all he could ever want to know. Without the worrying presence of prying eyes, Akechi allowed himself to be free, and Akira quietly wondered what _else_ he could convince Akechi to do under the cover of darkness, energized and without inhibitions…

It was then that Akechi happened to look over, catching Akira’s eye. The film cast dancing lights over his face, and his expression softened into something like concern. Flushing, Akira squeezed his hand and turned away to stare pointedly at the screen, suddenly fascinated by the ending to a movie he’d just ignored.

 

* * *

 

“Ah, I quite enjoyed that. It was somewhat predictable, but still fun to watch,” Akechi said as they left the theater a short while later. He seemed to be in a good mood, though he wasn’t as visibly excited as he had been in the dark, his smile now closer to the one Akira was used to: pleasant but restrained. “What about you?” he asked. “Did you like it?”

Akira flexed his right hand. He could still feel the phantom touch of Akechi’s hand wrapped around his.

“I had a great time,” he said. “Hungry now, though.”

“Mm, I am as well.”

“I wish it was the weekend… I’d love to get you some of Sojiro’s curry.”

“You’ve certainly set my expectations quite high in that regard,” Akechi said. “Given that Leblanc won’t be a viable option, however, may I make a suggestion? I know of a sushi restaurant not far from here… It’s fairly middling in terms of quality, but the service is fast and it’s quite affordable. What do you say?”

“And here I thought you’d be relying on me today,” Akira said.

It was quiet inside the little sushi shop, the lunch rush long over by now, but it was warm, and sitting at a slightly-cramped table with Akechi just a few feet across from him, Akira started to feel content and sleepy. If he were with Ryuji and Ann, now would be the time they’d retreat back to Ann’s apartment, or maybe Ryuji’s place, and spend the rest of the day playing video games and eating snacks. He hadn’t thought to plan this far ahead for his day with Akechi…

Except that wasn’t exactly true.

No, he had hardly been able to fall asleep last night for all he was planning out the day ahead of him; it was just that every time he got to this point in the day, his conviction faltered. After all, the last time they had skipped together, Akira had outlined a fairly clear itinerary for their next “sick day”, and between the movie and the sushi, two out of three items had been checked… there was really only one thing left to do.

All too quickly, their lunch was finished, and they found themselves back on the street, Akechi looking at him expectantly.

“Well?” he asked. “What now?”

“Dunno,” Akira said. “You’ve had a lot of good ideas today… any suggestions?”

Akechi fidgeted beside him, smoothing out a crease in his jacket. “Well…” he began, looking to the ground, “I was going to invite you to my apartment for coffee, but… knowing that you live above a café, I doubt I could offer you anything satisfying.”

 _Satisfying._ The word slipped into Akira’s brain and melted there, leaving him fuzzy-headed.

“Why, uh… why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

It was frankly astounding he was even able to string a sentence together.

Akechi’s eyes went wide, as if he’d expected Akira to turn him down – as if Akira would ever give up an opportunity like this. “Ah… okay,” he said, nodding resolutely. “Well, um… shall we?”

 

* * *

 

Akechi’s apartment looked exactly as Akira remembered, although he hadn’t really explored the kitchen the last time he’d been here. It was, perhaps, the most cluttered part of Akechi’s apartment, with the sparse counter space taken up by a simple coffee maker, a rice cooker, an electric kettle… though all three items were in pristine condition, like they hadn’t seen much use. Akechi retrieved a packet of pre-ground coffee from one of his cabinets, and it was in a similar state: largely unused and fairly uninspiring. There was only so much Akira could do with instant coffee like this, but… he kind of got the feeling he was just brewing it as a formality, anyway.

When the coffee was finished, Akira brought the two mugs over and sat down beside Akechi, who accepted one from Akira with a quiet “thank you”. The aroma of the instant coffee was acrid and flat, which instilled no confidence in Akira; still, he took a sip just to be polite, and found the taste no different than the smell. He chanced a look at Akechi as he took a sip of his own coffee, and saw him wince before he could mask the expression completely.

Akechi shifted in his spot under the guise of setting his largely-full coffee mug down on the table, and when he pulled back, he was close enough that their legs nearly touched.

“Perhaps I should have asked this earlier, but… where exactly do you envision this afternoon going, Kurusu-kun?” he asked.

Hot coffee stuck in Akira’s throat, and he swallowed thickly, going warm all over. He set his own mug down next to Akechi’s and turned to face him.

“I… was sort of hoping we could pick back up where we left off last time.”

“Oh?” Akechi met his gaze. “And… where was that, exactly?”

“What, did you forget already?” Akira asked. “Was I that unmemorable?”

“No,” Akechi said. “But… I wouldn’t be opposed if you’d like to remind me.”

His eyes fell to his lap, causing his hair to cascade over his face like a curtain, separating the two of them until Akira brushed it aside, leaving his fingers resting against Akechi’s cheek. There was no need to be shy, Akira knew, and yet anticipation bubbled up in his stomach so intensely that he had to savor it for a moment: this sensation of being on the edge, about to topple over, it was almost more exciting…

“Okay,” Akira breathed, running his thumb along Akechi’s chin, just barely grazing the corner of his mouth. Akechi’s eyes fluttered shut and he leaned his head into Akira’s touch, sighing softly and parting his lips, which was all the encouragement Akira needed to tilt his head to the side and capture those lips with his own.

As if they had been held apart by nothing more than a thin wire that had finally broken, they fell into each other’s embrace, Akechi’s arms wrapping around Akira’s side while Akira curled his hand around Akechi’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair. It could never get old, kissing Akechi like this: even now, it felt as new and electric as the first time, the slip of Akechi’s tongue against his sending sparks through his body, and whenever they broke apart, Akechi chased him until they were kissing again, whimpering at the loss, however temporary it may have been.

 _Nothing_ could feel better than this.

He could’ve been content to kiss Akechi until his lips were raw, but pressed up so close to him, Akira’s entire body hummed with _need_ , or want, or – he wasn’t sure anymore, but it was enough to make him pull away, far enough that Akechi couldn’t simply follow his lips. His senpai whined and opened his eyes, revealing pupils blown wide with arousal. A rush of pride filled Akira’s chest, and he thought, giddy, _I did that to him…_

“I know this place is pretty small,” he said, “but you _do_ have a bedroom, right?”

Akechi tried to scoff, but the blush painting his face ruined the effect. “Let me up, and I’ll show you.”

He stood from the couch with remarkable elegance – which was more than Akira could say about himself, stumbling a step or two in his haste to follow Akechi back to his bedroom. Akechi opened the door and turned on the light, heading straight for the bed, while Akira’s attention was torn between taking in every detail of Akechi’s bedroom and Akechi himself.

Akechi did a remarkable job of holding Akira’s attention, however, backing up onto the bed and propping himself up by his elbows, arching his back just _so_ and narrowing his eyes in a way that sent a jet of heat coursing through Akira’s body. With a soft groan, Akira clambered onto the bed, on top of Akechi, leaning forward to kiss him again while his hands came to rest on Akechi’s stomach. He slipped his fingers beneath Akechi’s shirt, feeling up his soft, warm skin, while Akechi couldn’t keep his hands off of Akira’s head, threading one into his hair and cupping his cheek with the other.

Somehow, they managed to pull Akechi’s shirt off over his head, fluffing up his hair so cutely that Akira momentarily forgot his previous task; he dove in and kissed Akechi’s already-parted lips, slipping his tongue inside and groaning low in his throat. He broke the kiss as quickly as he’d initiated it, pulling his own shirt off and tossing it onto the floor before leaning back in and kissing his way across Akechi’s jaw, down his neck, over his collarbone; he found the burning desire to touch every exposed inch of Akechi’s skin far, far too strong to ignore. He was feeling selfish this afternoon, desperate to see more of Akechi, who was always so perfectly composed… yes; right now, Akira wanted nothing more than to see him come undone.

The thought gave Akira pause, and his hesitation must have transferred to Akechi, too, because in that moment, something between them changed. Akechi’s hands felt a little less sure, his body a little more distant than it had been, and Akira’s mind wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t notice. When he pulled back, Akira found Akechi with his chest heaving, cheeks dusted pink and lips parted, but with a tightness to his whole expression, like he was trying to hold himself together. All at once, a pang of guilt rushed through Akira.

“…this isn’t too much, is it?” Akira asked.

“No, no,” Akechi said, shaking his head emphatically – a little too emphatically, perhaps, to be completely genuine. “It’s just… could you promise me something, Kurusu-kun?” he asked. “After you’ve gotten what you want from me… you won’t just leave, right?”

There was something to Akechi’s voice that made Akira’s blood go cold, stopping dead in his veins while his heart continued to beat wildly, so violently that it cracked the ice and made his whole chest ache.

“What… why exactly do you think I’m doing this, senpai?” Akira asked. He couldn’t breathe right, and the words left his mouth in a near-whisper. Below him, Akechi looked up with wide, glossy eyes, and Akira continued, “I’m not just using you to get laid. And if _you_ are, then… maybe we shouldn’t do this.”

God if it didn’t hurt like hell to say that – Akira’s lower half was still nestled tantalizingly up against Akechi’s hips, and he resisted the urge to grind – but it would be so much worse to go through with everything and find out only after the fact that this wasn’t at all what Akechi wanted. Akira couldn’t bear the thought.

“I’m not; I’m sorry,” Akechi said, squeezing his eyes shut and deflating against the bed. “That’s not it, I promise you.”

He didn’t elaborate. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Akira gazed down at the boy below him, who refused to give Akira even a hint about what he was thinking. It was, as usual, up to Akira to interpret the meager clues he had been given.

“Senpai, will you go out with me?” Akira asked.

Akechi’s eyes flew open, his arms twitching involuntarily. “W-what? Kurusu, what are you—”

“Be my boyfriend,” Akira said. He brushed the back of his hand along Akechi’s cheek. “I won’t leave. I… really don’t want this to be a one-time thing, if I’m being honest.”

“…we haven’t even done anything yet,” Akechi mumbled, though he leaned into Akira’s touch. “What if I disappoint you?”

“Disappointing? Doesn’t really sound like you,” Akira said. Akechi made a quiet, pained noise, so Akira pressed his lips against his forehead and murmured, “You could never.”

Silence stretched out before them, during which time Akira barely dared to breath, until a tiny, fragile smile crept onto Akechi’s face, and Akira felt his heart start to beat again.

“Thank you… thank you, Kurusu-kun,” Akechi said.

“Of course,” Akira said, cupping Akechi’s cheek in his hand and smiling with more fondness than he knew he was capable of feeling. “So… call me Akira, okay?”

Akechi stuttered, but he recovered quickly, a devious smirk appearing on his face. “Certainly,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, honeyed tone, heavy with desire, “…Akira-kun.”

 _“God,”_ Akira groaned, surging forward and kissing Akechi with renewed vigor.

Now that Akechi had finally given himself permission to enjoy the moment, it was as though neither could keep their hands off the other: with every feverish kiss, wet and urgent and terribly uncoordinated, tiny whimpers and desperate moans slipped free from Akechi’s mouth, and Akira was certain he’d never heard anything hotter in his entire life.

“If you don’t have anything else in mind,” Akechi said when they finally broke apart for want of a few steady breaths, “then I’ve been curious about…” He looked away, his bangs falling over his eyes to hide his shyness. “I’d like to try oral.”

“Oh yeah?” Akira’s mouth felt dry. “Giving or, ah… receiving?”

“…giving.”

_Oh, god._

Akechi ran his fingers lightly along the inside of Akira’s thigh, squeezing gently. “If that’s something you’re interested in,” he added.

“Interested,” Akira said at once. “Very, very interested.”

Akechi’s eyes sparkled with delight, and he leaned over Akira’s lap to kiss him, teasing him with a swipe of his tongue, pulling away just as Akira parted his lips to let him in.

“I think it would be easiest if I knelt, so…” Akechi shifted backwards, inching himself off the bed until he was on his knees, never breaking eye contact. As if drawn by a thread, Akira followed him, setting his legs down on either side of Akechi.

He had to swallow around a lump in his throat when Akechi reached for his zipper; he was blatantly aroused, straining against his jeans, and he let out a stuttering gasp when Akechi’s fingers finally brushed over the swell of his cock. He lifted his hips to aid Akechi in sliding his jeans over his hips, barely getting them out of the way before Akechi was tugging his underwear down, too, exposing Akira’s erection in full.

Akechi stared, blindly tugging his own gloves off his hands as though he couldn’t tear his eyes away for even a second. Unwanted and already forgotten, the gloves dropped to the ground so that Akechi could wrap his bare hand around the base of Akira’s dick instead, running over its full length a few times. Akira bit back a moan; Akechi’s hands were even softer than his gloves had been.

Then Akechi leaned forward, causing some of his hair to fall over his shoulders, over his lips; nonchalantly, he brushed it behind his ear, glancing up at Akira as he did.

“Please let me know if you don’t like something… or if you _do._ ”

It was all the warning Akechi gave before wrapping his lips around the head of Akira’s dick.

There was a moment when Akira barely registered the warm, wet heat enveloping him, too transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing into Akechi’s mouth. It was almost surreal, like he was watching it happen to someone else, but no – it was _him,_ Goro was going down on _him,_ and if Akira wanted, he could reach right out and touch him – could feel just how real and solid he truly was.

“Fuck, senpai; you’re really—” Akira’s hand found its way to Akechi’s head, carding through his hair and giving him an encouraging pet. Akechi groaned in soft delight, and _that_ was what finally solidified the experience for Akira, who threw his head back against the pillow, gasping and shuddering.

Akechi quickly grew more confidant, and while his pace was ragged and bordering on incoherent, his mouth was so hot and wet that Akira couldn’t have cared less; he grew thick against Akechi’s tongue, loving the way his senpai’s lips stretched around his cock, the way a new wave of pleasure washed over him with every swipe of Akechi’s tongue. He rocked his hips forward, mindful of Akechi’s limits but desperate to feel more of that wonderful mouth, to feel Akechi take him even _deeper_ …

Heat pooled in his core, the sensation building and building until Akira was certain he couldn’t take it any longer, and then, at the last possible second, Akechi slid off his cock, the sudden rush of cool air making Akira groan.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Akechi said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “My jaw is sore… it’s more work than I anticipated.”

“It’s fine,” Akira assured him. He pushed a tuft of sweat-damp hair out of his eyes – when did he get so disheveled? – and laughed breathlessly. “Fuck, you were incredible… you nearly got me there.”

Akechi beamed with pride. “Did I?” he asked. He pressed forward, taking Akira’s cock in his hand. “Did I make you feel good, Akira-kun? I can make you feel even better…”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Akira groaned. “Fuck, senpai…”

“You, ah, don’t have to call me that, you know,” Akechi said. “Given that you’ve extended me the same privilege, you can use my name.”

“Yeah, but… don’t you think it’s kinda…”

Akira trailed off, praying that Akechi would catch on to his meaning, but his senpai just stared at him.

“…hot?”

“Is that so? You like acknowledging my status above you?” Akechi chuckled. “Well, if that’s what you like, then… you can call me whatever you want, Akira-kun.”

Without waiting for a reply, Akechi began to stroke him in earnest, and any coherent thoughts on Akira’s part were lost to a wordless moan. He hadn’t thought it would feel so different to have someone else touching him, but the unpredictability of it all was driving him wild; that it was Akechi hovering above him, smiling coyly, only heightened the experience.

“Incredible… Akira-kun,” Akechi murmured, nosing against his neck and sucking hard enough that Akira could feel his pulse throb beneath his own skin. _“Akira.”_

“Senpai – Goro,” Akira gasped, groping blindly for Akechi, finding purchase on his shoulder and dragging him closer.

Beside him, Akechi moaned softly, squeezing him a little tighter and quickening his pace. “Yes?” he asked, pressing close to his chest until he was snug against Akira’s side. Akira fucked into Akechi’s hand as his orgasm hit, an overwhelming wave of pleasure and heat that crashed through his core and made him shiver all over, while Akechi stroked him gently through the whole thing.

His thighs were trembling with aftershocks, but he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked at Akechi, who was red-faced and panting, and – far, far too clothed.

“Seems like you enjoyed yourself,” Akechi said.

“So much. So, _so_ much,” Akira said, climbing over Akechi and pushing him down until he was laying where Akira had been, his hands hovering over the clasp of Akechi’s khakis. “What do you want me to do now, senpai?” he asked, dragging the zipper down and dipping his hand in to palm over Akechi’s cock, which was hot and hard even through the thin fabric of his underwear. Akira bit his lip and felt his oversensitive cock give a weak twitch.

“A-anything, anything is fine, Akira-kun,” Akechi stammered, raising his hips and shimming out of his pants with Akira’s help. “I’ve already asked so much of you today.”

“No, I – I want to do what you’d like,” Akira said. “So tell me what to do.” He hooked his fingers under Akechi’s waistband and tugged his underwear down, freeing Akechi’s cock and drawing another whimper from Akechi’s throat.

“Well, I – would you…”

He hesitated, and Akira waited patiently, watching him. Akechi threw his arm over his eyes.

“…finger me?”

Akira surged forward, pushing Akechi’s arm aside and catching him in a heated kiss.

“Yes,” he groaned, his breath puffing over Akechi’s lips. “Fuck, that’s hot, senpai. Do you have lube?”

Akechi simply nodded and retrieved a bottle from his bedside table. It was small, but it wasn’t full, and the lid was sticky with stray fluid.

“You’ve used this,” Akira said, flipping the lid and slicking up his fingers. “Is this how you like to touch yourself?”

“A-ah… sometimes,” Akechi said.

“Enough to know you like it,” Akira said. Akechi simply hummed in affirmation.

“Yes, it’s just… messy,” he said.

“I’ll be careful,” Akira promised, using his dry hand to nudge apart Akechi’s knees. Akechi obliged him, letting his legs fall to the side and exposing himself fully, allowing Akira to dip between Akechi’s thighs and press a lube-slicked finger teasingly against his ass. He massaged the rim slowly, uncertainly, too afraid of injuring Akechi to move any faster – thank god he’d already come, or he wasn’t sure he’d have the patience.

“Ever… thought about me?” Akira asked. “When you touch yourself, I mean.”

Beneath him, Akechi’s hips jumped up just a bit. “O-once or twice,” he said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Twice,” Akechi clarified. “Twice about you – Akira-kun, please…”

Akira pressed his fingertip firmly against Akechi, pushing inside and earning himself a prolonged whine.

“Twice,” Akira murmured. He curled his finger, and slowly, Akechi began to open up for him. “God, I wish I’d been there. Tell me about it?”

“First was… after you kissed me in the student council room,” Akechi said. “I was – I really hadn’t expected you to kiss me again. That you were so bold as to kiss me at school – twice, even – it was easy to imagine you… backing me up against that wall again, a-and…” he stuttered, trailing off. “I felt bad about it, afterwards.”

Akira brushed his lips over Akechi’s knee, smiling apologetically. “I’m sorry. Please know that you never, ever have to feel bad about getting off to thoughts of me. In fact, I heartily encourage it.”

As he told his story, Akechi had grown tense, his muscles tightening almost uncomfortably around Akira’s finger, but now he began to relax again, sinking back into the mattress and giving a shaky laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Keep _me_ in mind, you mean,” Akira said, tossing Akechi a wink and sinking a second finger into him, stealing Akechi’s breath away. With a gentle scissoring motion, Akira pushed even deeper into Akechi, who was so hot and slick that it took all of his self-control not to moan; if his ass felt this good just wrapped around Akira’s fingers… he could only imagine what it would feel like to fuck him properly.

Next time, perhaps. Before, Akira might have written off such a thought as wishful thinking, but with the way Akechi was talking, he had plenty of reason to think there might well _be_ a next time…

“So… twice, you said?” Akira prompted.

“Yes… second was after we went to Akihabara,” Akechi managed to say, his breath coming in choppy bursts. “I was so distracted at school that afternoon… it might have been better if I’d never gone back. Because I kept thinking about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. I imagined that, instead of letting me leave that day, you stopped me… and asked for five more minutes. Five minutes to convince me to stay…” He looked down his chest, his eyes hooded and dark, clouded with desire. “I’ve kissed you enough to know that… you’re quite good with your mouth. I imagined you would be very, ah, _persuasive_.”

Akira faltered for a moment, his mouth falling open. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned. “That’s – I should have done that. Damn.”

Akechi laughed, his breath hitching as Akira thrust in particularly well, grazing a tender spot deep inside him. “O-oh, that’s – mm, Akira-kun…” he whined, bucking his hips against Akira’s hand and forcing him to hit that spot again. “Your fingers are so long. You can hit so much deeper than I can.”

“Fuck,” Akira whispered again, feeling particularly ineloquent. He repeated his earlier motion, rubbing up against Akechi’s prostate, and again, Akechi moaned for him. “That’s – you’re _so_ hot, Goro. And it feels so good inside you…”

“Aa-ah, Akira,” Akechi stammered. His voice sounded hazy, not all there. “Can you, please – touch me, _please_.”

This time, Akira couldn’t hold back his voice, moaning under his breath. “Like this?” he asked, curling his fingers up while wrapping his other hand around Akechi, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Beneath him, Akechi went rigid, arching his back and opening his mouth in a silent moan, clenching tightly around Akira’s fingers.

“Yes,” he whispered, “yes – like that.”

“Are you close?”

“Yes, yes,” Akechi chanted, shoving himself harshly against the bed, gasping and panting.

Akira wet his lips and focused on keeping his pace steady. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice nothing more than a breathless whisper. “Gonna come for me, senpai?”

Akechi’s hand flew to his mouth in a vain attempt to smother the moan that left him, his muscles contracting around Akira’s fingers, his cock twitching as his orgasm overtook him. Akira pumped him through it, unable to look away as Akechi lost himself completely to pleasure, hot ropes of come making a mess of his stomach and of Akira’s hand.

Slowly, Akechi’s tremors died down, and Akira was able to remove his fingers, wiping them haphazardly on his leg before glancing at the mess on his other hand. Tentatively, he licked a stripe of come away, and immediately wrinkled his nose. The taste wasn’t anything special, but the texture definitely left a lot to be desired…

“A-Akira!” Akechi exclaimed. Akira stopped, his tongue stuck on his hand like he’d been caught stealing cookies. “Don’t be lewd…”

“You gave me a blowjob earlier,” Akira countered.

“It’s – well… it’s different,” Akechi mumbled. He stumbled off the bed and groped around in his closet, coming away with a towel. He wiped himself clean and then tossed it to Akira, who did the same.

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” Akechi asked. He sat back down, his back to his pillow, and Akira dropped the soiled towel to the ground, crawling over the bed until the two of them were side-by-side.

“Did I mean what?” Akira asked.

Akechi twisted the bedsheet in his hands. “Do you really want to date?”

Ah, that. Akira felt his cheeks go warm – not that the blush had ever really left his face since they’d arrived at Akechi’s apartment. Something like that, spoken in the heat of the moment… surely no one would fault him for slipping up and saying something he didn’t mean, except thinking about it now in his fully sober, post-orgasm state, he knew he’d meant every word he’s said.

“Of course,” Akira said. “I mean, if you’re cool with that. I sort of sprung it on you…”

“No, I – I’d like that.” Akechi smiled, his cheeks still nicely pinked, and scooted backwards, holding up the bed sheet. “Can you stay a little while?” he asked.

“I _do_ have a curfew,” Akira said, even as he slipped under the covers and stretched out fully next to Akechi. “If you keep me out late, Boss might disown me.”

“Just a little while, then,” Akechi said. He settled down, resting his head against Akira’s bare chest, and without even hesitating, Akira wrapped his arm around Akechi’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Just a little while.”

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and thanks to [androgenius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgenius/pseuds/androgenius) for beta reading! ^▽^
> 
> And thanks to you for reading! I'm on twitter [@somewhereflying](https://twitter.com/somewhereflying) if you'd like to say hello~


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